


Who you are

by Ellessey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Best Friends, First Kiss, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellessey/pseuds/Ellessey
Summary: “Asahi....Asahi, come on,” Daichi says, leaning in close enough to press their foreheads together. “You’re making me feel like shit.”Asahi leans back to look at him then, and he knows that was the least helpful thing he could have said.“I’msorry,”Asahi says. He looks so miserable, and is so undeserving of that feeling, that Daichi doesn’t even think. He just leans in a little closer and presses his lips to Asahi’s, so he can make him feel something else. So he can make him feel good.--Daichi loses his patience when Asahi loses their concert tickets. But the tickets don't matter, Asahi does, and Daichi wants to make sure he knows that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a little while ago on my Tumblr, but I wanted to get it up here for AsaDai day ❤

When Daichi gets out of the restroom, the line he left Asahi in has dispersed, and Asahi is leaning against the building looking quietly dejected. This is…pretty standard, but given that he should now have three tickets to see their favorite band in his pocket, it’s not exactly what Daichi was expecting to see.

“Yo!” Daichi calls out as he approaches his friend. “You get them?”

Asahi looks up at him and his expression becomes, if possible, even more morose. “I’m sorry, Daichi…they sold out.”

“What?” Daichi looks around at the smiling faces of the other people milling around (and a few others like Asahi who obviously missed their chance). “How? When they walked through the line earlier they said we’d definitely make it!”

Asahi gives him a desperate look before dropping his eyes to his shoes. “A big group cut in front of me right after you left.”

“Asahi! Why…what the hell? Why didn’t you say something?” Asahi just looks back up at him imploringly, and Daichi would normally not even be stupid enough to ask something like this, but he _really_ wanted to go to this concert, and they were so close. “I can’t believe you just let them take our spot!”

“I’m sorry,” Asahi says again.

“You’re like seven feet tall, Asahi! All you had to do was speak up.”

“I couldn’t!”

“Yes! You actually could!

“I _couldn’t._ There were a lot of them and…why couldn’t you have just waited five minutes to go to the bathroom?”

“It shouldn’t have mattered! All you had to do was not be a wuss for five minutes! This was for Suga’s birthday, Asahi.”

“I _know,”_ Asahi says, and his eyes have become big and bright all of a sudden. A few more seconds and he’ll be crying, and Daichi goes from outraged to guilt-ridden so fast he’s almost surprised he can even process emotions that quickly. “I’m s-sorry…I—”

“No…no, forget it,” Daichi says, taking Asahi’s arm and towing him away from the abandoned ticket window. “It’s okay, it’s fine.”

Asahi’s breath hitches, and instead of leading him towards the train station, Daichi walks past it. Asahi won’t want to be trapped in a train when he’s feeling like this, and they could both use the time walking home will take to cool down.

He’s still pissed that they missed out on the tickets, that they won’t be able to surprise Suga the way they’d planned, but it’s done, it’s too late now, and he shouldn’t have made Asahi feel shitty about something he really couldn’t help. He watches him brushing away tears for the first few blocks, but there’s not much he can do to help right now. Asahi is one of those people who needs physical contact—he’d probably stop crying immediately if Daichi could just hug him—but he also can’t handle physical affection in public. So for now, Daichi just walks close to him, lets their arms bump every so often.

By the time they reach the apartment they’ve shared since their junior year of college, Asahi’s breaths are almost even, strained only from the exertion of their long walk. He goes straight into their bedroom and drops down on his bed, the one pressed against the left side of the room. Daichi follows him and stretches out on his side next to him.

“Hey,” he says. Asahi doesn’t answer him, and Daichi knows he’s still embarrassed and frustrated, and probably hurt. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I’m sorry I lost the tickets,” Asahi mumbles, not looking at Daichi.

“Doesn’t matter,” Daichi says. “We’ll think of something else.”

Asahi looks at him for just a moment, then his eyes close and a few new tears slip down his face. Daichi knows exactly what he’s thinking. The way he’s beating himself up inside right now, the way Daichi was dumb enough to do when it was the last thing Asahi needed. He’s such a piece of shit, and his best friend shouldn’t have to feel like this.

“Hey,” Daichi says again, brushing a hand over Asahi’s warm, damp cheek. “Asahi, I’m sorry. I was an ass. It doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t.”

“I should have been able to handle it,” Asahi says.

“I shouldn’t have had two coffees while we waited in line.”

Asahi smiles a little bit. Not enough. “You were gone forever.”

“I know.” Daichi slings an arm over Asahi’s waist. He can’t really hug him with them both on their sides, but this will help. “I was pissing for like two minutes straight.”

“Gross,” Asahi says, blushing. And then, “I did…I did say something, but…”

Daichi can imagine how it went. Asahi said something softly and the line cutters either didn’t hear him, or pretended not to. And Asahi is too timid and kind to ever be pushy, even when he has every right to be.

“I shouldn’t have called you a wuss,” Daichi says. “I’d rather you be exactly who you are than be like those assholes who took your place.”

“Those assholes are going to the concert,” Asahi says, and Daichi smiles because Asahi swears so rarely. “And I don’t think the only options are giant wuss and asshole. Why can’t I be somewhere in the middle, like you?”

“I’m pretty close to being an asshole,” Daichi says. “And there’s nothing wrong with you. So you’re shy, so what?” Asahi has stopped looking at him again, but Daichi keeps going. They can’t get the tickets now, but he can try to fix this, at least. “You’re also smart, and thoughtful, and _good.”_

Asahi just ducks his head down a little more, eyes downcast and mouth doing that thing where he holds it tight and straight so it won’t betray him and start to tremble, and Daichi feels it like a kick to his chest.

“Asahi....Asahi, come on,” he says, leaning in close enough to press their foreheads together. “You’re making me feel like shit.”

Asahi leans back to look at him then, and he knows that was the least helpful thing he could have said.  

“I’m _sorry,”_ Asahi says. He looks so fucking miserable, and is so undeserving of that feeling, that Daichi doesn’t even think, he just leans in a little closer and presses his lips to Asahi’s, so he can make him feel something else. So he can make him feel good.

He only kisses him for a moment, pulling back after, just enough that their lips aren’t quite touching, in case Asahi doesn’t like it. They’ve never done this before, but they’ve spent a lot of time pressed together in Asahi’s bed over the years, sometimes for the whole night, when Asahi has needed to be close. It doesn’t feel that different to take it a step further now, to lean in again when Asahi doesn’t pull away. Keeping the contact for a little longer this time, and then again, and again. Just soft kisses, meant to comfort Asahi. To be close to him and show him that he’s loved.

It’s not until the sixth time Daichi leans in that Asahi’s lips press back and he sighs quietly, the way he does when Daichi holds him tight enough to get him to relax. He runs his hand up Asahi’s back and into his hair, cupping his head and pulling him a little closer. Asahi is so warm and he tastes so familiar somehow, and Daichi wants to breathe more of him in, to deepen the kiss. He lets his tongue trace Asahi’s lower lip, then prods gently at the seam of his mouth, slipping between Asahi’s lips when they part. Not far, just making a little space for himself, so when he kisses him again he can fit their mouths together.

“Okay?” he asks, letting his lips brush over the stubble along Asahi’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Asahi says, turning his head slightly to find Daichi’s lips again. “S’nice.”

“Good.”

Asahi nods his agreement, and Daichi smiles and catches Asahi’s lip carefully between his teeth, running his tongue along the swell of it before letting go and tilting his head to kiss him deeper. Asahi sighs again, leans his body into Daichi’s as he kisses back, and Daichi can feel all the tension slipping out of his friend as they taste each other slowly. Eyes closed and breaths warm and close, so it starts to feel like there’s nothing except for the two of them in their quiet room, in Asahi’s little bed that hasn’t been big enough for both of them in years.

He’s not sure how long it’s been, how many minutes he’s spent carding his fingers through Asahi’s hair and learning the feel of every part of his mouth, but he has a hazy awareness eventually of the tension building up again, in a different way now. Asahi is starting to breathe more heavily, and so is Daichi. All he can hear are their shared breaths and the wet sounds of their lips and tongues, even though he knows somewhere out there cars are driving by and neighbors are talking through thin walls. Asahi is leaning into him harder, holding his jaw in one strong hand and using his thumb on Daichi’s chin to ease his mouth open wider. He licks inside it, deep and hot, and then hesitates, letting his thumb trace Daichi’s jaw softly as he draws back and looks down at him.

Daichi isn’t quite sure when he ended up on his back, but here he is. “You’re good at this,” he says.

“Am I?” Asahi asks. Entirely genuine and more than a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Daichi says. “Really good. You wanna keep going?”

“I…” Asahi blushes, bites his own swollen lip, and Daichi smiles and reaches up to brush back the hair that’s falling in his eyes. “Yeah? If you don’t mind?”

Daichi laughs and lifts his hips a little, letting his body speak for him when he presses into Asahi’s thigh just long enough for him to feel that, no, he really doesn’t mind. “What do you think?”

All he gets in response is the bright flare of red in Asahi’s cheeks, but his confidence seems to be restored, and he leans over Daichi again, presses his leg between Daichi’s and kisses him with a different energy than before. More urgency, less of that sleepy, careful cadence. Daichi moans a little, because this is all really nice. He’s not used to being touched like this—someone’s hand slipping under him and making his back arch, while a solid, heavy body keeps his hips pinned down. He’s usually more in charge, but he likes this. He likes that Asahi is taking control, that he feels _comfortable_ taking control. He likes the way his stubble scrapes over Daichi’s neck, and how tight he pulls him against himself. And he likes that for once, he’s not in control of how and when he moves his own body.

Asahi is moving him when he wants to, pressing him hard into the bed, finally rolling them over when Daichi makes a desperate little whining sound unintentionally, because Asahi’s thigh was pressed so firmly between his legs that he couldn’t move to rut against it. But even now that he’s on top of Asahi, the other man is still directing him. Hands firm on Daichi’s hips, grinding up into him as he drags Daichi over himself, back and forth, while Daichi just opens his mouth to accept whatever messy kisses he can get, grips broad shoulders tightly, and hangs on.

He knows how strong Asahi is, of course. He’s watched him grow into this body. Watched him commanding the court as the ace when they were in high school, watched him benching more weight than Daichi could ever hope to during late nights at the gym (and Daichi is no slouch when it comes to lifting). He’s watched the way he shrinks when there are too many eyes on him, the way he folds in on himself, fades back. And he’s watching him now, feeling him under himself, all muscle and power and certainty, working their bodies together boldly until Daichi has started shaking, is digging his fingers into straining biceps and groaning as his release shoots through him like a flare going off, hot and quick.

Asahi stops for a moment, letting Daichi catch his breath, but he isn’t finished yet. He flips them so Daichi is on his back again and rocks into him, so hard Daichi has to wrap his arms tight around Asahi’s neck and bite his lip, trying not to whimper under the rough drags of Asahi’s length through their jeans. He’s oversensitive, wet and sticky inside his underwear, but he won’t tell Asahi to stop. Not with how free he seems right now, not knowing how good he must feel, getting all of this tension out, pressing it all into Daichi until finally Asahi is shaking, too. Hips falling out of rhythm and then rolling against Daichi once more as Asahi’s breath catches, and then releases along with a low, rough moan.

“Look at you,” Daichi breathes, when Asahi has collapsed beside him, hair completely freed from the bun it was pulled back in earlier. Cheeks flushed and lips curved up in a little, relaxed smile. “Confidence looks good on you, Azumane.”

His words are met with a darkening of the color in Asahi’s face, but his eyes stay clear and steady on Daichi’s.

“That…that felt good,” Asahi says, curling into Daichi so they can rest their heads together. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Daichi says, fisting his hand loosely in the front of Asahi’s shirt. “Any time.”

“Yeah?” Asahi asks. They’re too close together for Daichi to really be able to see his face, but he can hear the lilt of hopefulness in his voice.

Daichi nods, pushes his fist gently to Asahi’s stomach, just to feel the warm skin against his knuckles, pressing into his hand with each steady breath Asahi takes in. “Yeah,” he says. “Felt good for me, too.”

Sometimes Daichi makes things worse for Asahi. Sometimes he loses his patience and his understanding, and he forgets how hard it is for him to do simple things when he’s uncomfortable. But he does his best, when he can, to make things better. To make Asahi feel safe, to make him feel strong.

Asahi makes a soft little humming sound, and Daichi tightens his hand in Asahi’s shirt and makes no move to leave his bed. It’s too small for them both, but it’s just right all the same.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [here](http://ellessey-writes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


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